


Drowning Azure

by yurImperial



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Bullying, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-15 04:44:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4593279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yurImperial/pseuds/yurImperial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High School AU. After Lapis moves to a new school for a fresh start, her past catches up to her and brings old troubles with it. Will an unlikely green-eyed computer geek be her last lifeline, or will she be left to drown in the waves? Warning: Rated T for language, bullying, and other warnings that I'll add as they come up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lapis Lazuli

> "And though I screamed and I screamed,  
>  No one came running.  
>  No I wasn't saved,  
>  I wasn't saved from you."
> 
> Under the Water - The Pretty Reckless
>
>> _I thought I left this all behind me._

When I moved to this school last week, the jeering was supposed to stop. No one knew me, no one knew anything _about_ me. So how did they uncover my deepest secrets?

"Hey, La Piss!"

A voice barks at me from behind. I almost turn, almost take the bait, but I've been through this routine enough to know that a response is exactly what she wants. I pretend I didn't hear anything and keep walking. When my homeroom comes into sight through the crowd of students, I heft my load of books and shuffle toward it a little faster. If I can just get inside before she catches me-

Too late; a hand clamps down on my shoulder and forces me to stop. My heart throws itself against my ribcage and rebounds, from either fear or momentum, into my throat. The open door is right there, a haven just within reach but still much too far to offer any protection. The offending hand grips me like a bear trap, teeth ready to tear into the flesh of the innocent animal caught in its clutches. The relentless tide of students continues to flow past as I'm reeled in toward the wall of lockers, oblivious as one of their own gets picked off by a predator.

"Jasper."

The name rushes up from my gut like bile. It's the frightened plea of every POW confronted by their interrogators.

"What's the matter, no good-morning smooch for your best girl friend? I thought you were into that?"

Her voice is just low enough for no one else to overhear; she likes seeing me squirm at the threat of total social ruination too much to socially ruin me outright. Not that there aren't enough people who somehow already know my secrets.

It just isn't fair.

"I don't want any trouble today. Just let me go to class." I tuck in my elbows and chin to make myself a smaller target.

"Sure, I'll let ya go."

Contradictory to her words, Jasper's large, bulky form moves to block my escape, further pinning me against the lockers. One metal handle digs into the small of my back painfully. I likely would have dropped my stack of books by now if there was enough space between us for them to fall.

"...but first, ya gotta say somethin' for me."

For the first time in today's encounter, I look Jasper fully in the face - a shock of bleached-white air, ugly orange tan, sharp nose, perpetual sneer - in other words, the face that haunts my nightmares. I want to look away, but now I have the deer-in-headlights thing going on because that glint in her eye conveys just how much fun she's going to wring out of me, how much she wants to hurt me. She's not playing around.

"Please?" I whisper.

Jasper howls at that. The explosion of mirth pelts my face with a light spray of spittle.

"As much as I'd like to hear you beg, no, I had something else in mind. You see, I'm convinced you're not being entirely honest with yourself." She presses her face even closer, so close that I can practically feel the heat coming off of her irradiated skin.

"No, I want you to say: 'I'm a...'"

The last words she whispers are so crude and cruel, they make my face flush and my hands ball into fists.

"If you can say that, you're welcome to go to class."

Jasper puts one of her big, meaty hands against the locker on my other side, effectively using her entire body as a cage. Craning my neck to see past her arm, I'm shocked to see the hall already devoid of loitering students and watchful teachers; if I don't want to miss, the only way out is to do what Jasper says, no matter how much I hate it. My voice comes out weak and tremulous.

"I'm..." I choke on the words, swallow hard, try again. "I'm a... dirty... d-dike..."

As soon as I spit the words out, my breath leaves me like a spate of toxins being expunged from my body. My face burns and my shoulder blades grind against the metal at my back.

"Hmph, good enough," Jasper says. "Doesn't it feel good to admit the truth to yourself? No need to thank me."

And just like that, Jasper stays true to her word and the cage is lifted. With that disgusting sneer still plastered to her face, she starts to turn away but then remembers something and swings back around.

"Oh, and have a nice day, La Piss."

With my humiliation complete, Jasper saunters off down the hall cackling like a hyena while I weather the aftermath. Her words sit like shrapnel in my chest, making it hard to breathe. The hallway is suddenly too crowded, the walls too close, the press of bodies suffocating me - I have to get out of here, homeroom be damned.

Casting a glare at the open door and its promised safety, I turn on my heel and stride quickly in the opposite direction. The thought of all those eyes around me, judging me, sends me into a panic. I'm certain that every word of Jasper's is written out neatly in the red staining my face.

* * *

The girls' restroom is empty at a time like this, of course, so I carelessly throw my books onto the counter to claim it as my safe place. Taking hold of the edge of the sink, I grip tight enough to turn my knuckles white as I try to hold back the anger and tears, but it's far too late. The Lapis Lazuli dam is under too much pressure, and as my composure cracks, obscenities gush out of me unabated.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it."

I punctuate each curse by slamming the bottom of my closed fist into the counter-top, imagining Jasper's face beneath it.

"Damn it, damn it, _damn it!_ " My voice cracks on the last shout.

A shudder rips through me as I finish retching my frustration into the sink, and I finally slump against the counter while clutching my throbbing hand to my middle. My chest feels impossibly tight, every breath bottle-necking as I struggle to breathe. My eyes burn with the prickling of hot tears.

I thought it would feel cathartic to yell out my frustration, but the echoes quickly distort until they no longer resemble my own voice.

Damn Jasper! Damn her for making me miss class again. I told myself I was going to stop skipping once I moved here, that I was going to study hard and graduate so I can leave high school hell behind - but nothing is different from back then. Nothing has changed. No matter where I go, my secrets will haunt me and no one will ever leave me in peace. Only one person has ever understood me and now she's-

A cold calm settles over me and I straighten, look my reflection in the eyes.

Whatever. Just go to your next class, Lapis, and try to avoid... everyone. Yeah, don't talk to anyone, don't look at anyone, just keep to yourself and you'll be fine. You can do that until graduation, can't you?

It's only three years away...

By now, my tears are searing down my cheeks in hot rivulets. I take a calming breath, sniffle and swipe my arm across my face, look back into the mirror, and freeze. Also frozen in the reflection is the image of another girl just stepping out of a stall behind me. Her mouth hangs open slightly as she stares back in bewilderment.

"You okay?"

Her voice is thin and reedy, as if it doesn't get much use. Glasses perch on the end of her small nose, the frames large enough to magnify the shocking green eyes behind them. White-blond hair frames her face, the bangs swept up off of her forehead. She's also short - easily five feet flat. Probably a freshman.

A cold sweat breaks out all over my body when our eyes meet. I could have sworn I was alone in here, but this day just seems to keep getting worse. I expect the girl to look upset about my outburst, but she doesn't even move when I turn to face her, just stares back at me like those people in old photographs when it wasn't customary to smile, one eyebrow arched in a silent question. When I realize that she's probably waiting for an answer, I finally find my voice.

"Oh, um, yeah- fine, s-sorry."

I wipe hastily at my eyes, self-conscious that I, a second year, had been crying, and wish to avoid betraying that fact. Before I can embarrass myself further, I turn away to gather my books from where they lay in a jumbled heap on the counter. From the corner of my eye, I see the girl approach to wash her hands at the adjacent sink, but by now I'm so flustered that I nearly drop everything again. If I wasn't so afraid of running into a certain someone at my locker between classes, I wouldn't try to carry everything for my morning classes with me everywhere.

Fumbling to fit the last book on top of the stack, I hoist the load into my arms and turn to rush out of the bathroom. The other girl's voice stops me just at the threshold and for the second time today I almost pretend not to hear - I swear I should just tell people I went deaf and be done with this 'verbal communication' nonsense - but her words stop my heart and make me turn back.

In her outstretched palm the girl holds my most precious possession: my vintage Rollei 35 camera, the strap of its carrying case dangling from her fingers. My earlier shame at being overheard is now replaced by the even greater shame of nearly losing my greatest treasure.

Biting my lip, I shuffle back to retrieve it, only to realize that my hands are full. The girl seems to notice this too and gingerly reaches up to slip the strap over my neck. My voice is nearly gone again, so I scrape out a murmured "Thanks," spin on my heel, and flee for my next class, already feeling guilty about the way I handled that brief interaction. If nothing else, I have my camera and I'll get into second period before Jasper has a chance to sniff me out for round two. Awkwardness aside, I can't help but breathe a sigh of relief for that unexpected kindness.

Maybe, just maybe, this won't be so hard once I'm no longer the 'new girl.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yurImperial here with my first uploaded story/chapter (though far from my first written) - finally! Is this a sign of the Apocalypse? Which Apocalypse? Death by gay cuties? I'm okay with that.
> 
> Yes, this will indeed be a Lapidot fic eventually. ;D
> 
> Fun fact, the name for this story was influenced by, you guessed it, Under the Water by The Pretty Reckless, which to me sums up Lapis Lazuli's character pretty well both in Steven Universe and my Drowning Azure AU. I love putting music to characters and stories - so let me know what you think about music synergy if you R&R!
> 
> Here's hoping I get more uploaded soon, so we can all die happily smothered in fluff (and not a little bit of angst heheh).


	2. Lapis Lazuli

> "There's not a time  
>  For being younger,  
>  And all my friends  
>  Are enemies."
> 
> Under the Water - The Pretty Reckless

_Its hard to believe this is only half of the students._

The cafeteria is packed to the brim with people shuffling through lines, filing past stations with different meal selections, and roaming the large open seating area. It's like watching synchronized swimming; two hundred people weave in and out of formation while miraculously avoiding collisions, food trays balanced one-handed while smart phones occupy the other. I feel so out of place here, disconnected from the flow and timing which everyone else seems to grasp on instinct.

But the draw of food is too enticing, so I pick out one of the shorter lines - cold sandwiches and salad. I keep my eyes downcast and my arms tucked to my sides, avoiding any kind of contact with those around me. I'm essentially invisible, secluded within an impenetrable bubble that only lasts until it's my turn to order. The lunch lady behind the counter casts an exhausted glance at me when I approach, shuffles some sheafs of cold cuts around, and grunts an affirmation that my turn is up.

"Turkey sub with everything on it, please."

My voice is drowned out by the bustle around me and the lunch lady's eyebrows shoot up in an irritated question.

"Turkey sub," I repeat louder, then jump when she slams a cleaver down, splitting a stack of thin-cut turkey breast in half. She then peels off four slices, folds them onto the bun, smacks a handful of various veggies on top, and slides the tray at me.

"Salad is self-serve," she grumbles and immediately turns her attention to the student behind me.

I slide my plate down to the salad bar and grab a bowl from the top of the stack. Picking past the soggier bits of lettuce with the provided tongs, I fill my bowl, add a dash of Thousand Island dressing, and head out in search of a table.

This is easier said than done.

I don't quite trust myself to jump into the current and come out unscathed, but I don't have much choice in the matter either. It would be easiest to stand still like an island for the sea of people to part around, but this option doesn't sound much more appealing and I'll have to learn how to navigate eventually. With a deep breath, I launch myself into the fray. Immediately, I nearly run into someone with their head bent over their phone. Dancing out of her way, I end up right in her path again. She manages to somehow track my movement despite not once looking up from her phone - apparently the students here evolve echolocation as a survival mechanism. The girl finally looks up to glare at me in annoyance as I accidentally veer into her path yet again, so I give up and stand still to let her pass.

Deciding that traversing the heart of the cafeteria involves too much risk, I circle out to the tables lining the walls of the cylindrical room. I may not get to sit under the skylight, but there are fewer people to contend with on the shaded outer ring. I spot a single empty table and hustle over before someone takes it, carefully squeezing past a boy as he leans over into the aisle to retrieve a dropped fork.

Sighing out, I finally allow myself to relax as I slip behind the small square table. Truth be told, after the incident with Jasper this morning, today hasn't been awful. Astronomy is my favorite class and it managed to get my mind off of things. Computer Science as usual was boring and uneventful, and the demanding exercise in Phys. Ed. helped to further clear my mind. I lucked out with the earlier of the two lunch periods this semester; despite my size, I eat a lot and there's no way I'd make it to 1:00 PM with P.E. in the morning.

Looking down at my meal, I realize that I have neither a fork nor a drink. I'd forgotten to take the time to look for them in my haste to be seated. I crane my neck around in search of either, but with so many people blocking the way, I know I'm going to have to hunt them down. I make it half-way around the cafeteria perimeter when I spot the drink dispensers. But blocking the way is a group of girls I actually recognize from some of my classes. There's Janet, the stoic, dark-skinned girl who somehow gets away with wearing her tinted sunglasses in Trigonometry; beside her is the short and round Amy, whose booming voice I would recognize anywhere thanks to P.E.; then there's the stalk-like Penelope with her ballerina figure, aka. the teacher's pet in History and Lit. The trio are talking to a boy with baggy pants and albino-white hair who seems to be handing out posters to everyone within a ten foot radius of the beverages.

I'm torn between approaching and being sociable for once, but by now the group is already walking off to find a table. The guy with the posters meets my eyes and makes a move to approach, but I panic and duck behind one of the pillars ringing the central seating area. Janet, Amy, and Penelope I've at least somewhat met before. Okay, I've never talked to them either, but it seems like it would be easier having had classes with them at least. The oath I made in the girls' restroom springs to the front of my mind and I tell myself that this is for the best. I have to keep avoiding people if I want to survive; that's the easiest, safest, most painless way.

I continue my circuit of the cafeteria, following the outer wall until I finally find a rack of utensils. With fork in hand, I make the long trek back to my seat, thinking that it sure would be easier if I had a friend to escort me about and teach me the ins and outs of Ashwood High. I've only been attending for three weeks now, but I can still barely find my way around the multi-building campus. Just one of the three buildings making up Ashwood's compound dwarfs the Beach City High School building.

I'm so caught up in reminiscence that when I finally pay attention to my surroundings, I'm lost. It appears as though I went too far around and passed my table, but the pillars are color-coded and I remember it being nearest the red pillar. That's when I spot my sandwich and salad, shoved aside where a group of students in sitting, at the chair and table that I claimed. I've been gone so long, they must have assumed I left.

Stupid.

I barely register the clatter as my fork falls from my limp hand. It skitters a few feet over the tiles, but instead of watching it, my eyes are fixed unblinking at a spot just above the table, my table, feeling like I'm going to cry again. Several pairs of eyes turn towards me while I stand frozen, probably looking like I saw a ghost. _Freak_ , they're thinking. _Look at that loser. She should go back to wherever she came from. No one care about her here. Poor La Piss, are you going to cry now?_

When the voice of my overactive imagination turns into Jasper's, I finally snap out of my trance.

I want to yell at the callous students around me, the ones who stole my table, the ones who ignore me, the ones who hurt me, the ones who stand by and watch, the ones who laugh along to my humiliation. But instead, I just stand here and seethe. When the next bell rings shortly after and the cafeteria regurgitates the students from its bowels, I'm once again forgotten and swept along like so much driftwood.

As I pass a solitary table, I catch a flash of light hair and green eyes, a reflection of myself in her posture. That girl from this morning.

She was alone, too.

Just like me.

* * *

That girl is still on my mind when the final bell signals the end of the school day. I barely paid attention though my afternoon classes. Even as I pack my things, I keep one eye out for Jasper and one for...

I don't even know her name yet.

I jump at the sound of a locker door being slammed shut, snapping my wandering mind back to the present. Glancing up, I expect to see that hideous orange visage again, but no shadow falls over me this time. Just more faces I can't put any names to as a hundred students flee toward the exit. Clutching my camera to my chest, I follow, eyes on my shoes. I only look up again once I'm outside, where the crowd disperses like rain in the cheery afternoon sun.

There's a park in the middle of town. Most homes are situated around the west side, with the school marking the eastern-most point of the residential area north of Ashwood Park. But rather than going west, I split from the herd and take the long way around. This has become my daily routine. The park offers excellent photography opportunities while giving me time to myself after a frustrating day at school. It's a short enough distance that I can still be home before dark, which is totally worth avoiding the others. The last thing I need is to share a walk home with Jasper. Shuddering, I chase the thought from my mind.

Pulling my camera from its case, I distract myself by staring up at the leaves through the tiny viewfinder. My vision turns into a mottled Impressionist landscape of fiery oranges and golds. I nearly lose myself as I wander like this, surrender myself the comfort of just walking. My shoes are a comforting bulge in my backpack; pretty soon it will be too cold to go barefoot here, a problem I never had in Beach City.

The thought makes me stop and drop the camera from my eye. I miss always having the water within reach. I miss the constant whisper of tide and sea spray. I miss the ever-shifting beauty of the waves, always there but always ready to show a new face depending on the day's mood.

I realize I'm stopped walking. I think I know why. My feet are itching to visit a place I found recently. I didn't have enough film last time I was there, but today I'm ready. Fueled by nostalgia, I leave the sidewalk border of the park and venture deeper.

It takes less than ten minutes to mind the location. At the heart of the park is a magnificent fountain, a stature of a many-armed figure rising from its center with a sleeping lion coiled about her feet. Great jets of water arc from the base of the pedestal and out to the edge of the retaining pool. With the sun set low in the sky, the water glimmers like fire wherever it sheets or cascades.

Barely able to contain my excitement, I toss my backpack onto a bench and start circling the fountain like a hungry predator. I'm looking for the most romantic angle, one where the embers of the dying sun burn a silhouette around the statue and dye it with a ruddy pink complexion. I use my arm as a guide straight out in front of me to judge the proper distance from which to shoot.

Finally satisfied, I flick the winding lever around, register the click, and snap the photo, greatly pleased with myself.

As I retrieve my bag, I linger just a little longer, admiring the statue. What's her story? Is she all alone here, too? There's a solemn expression in her eyes as she gazes evermore into the distance - but no, she has that lion by her side as a companion.

Sighing, I resign myself to finish the walk back. Thanks to my extended detour, it will surely be dark before I reach uncle's house. But as I slip my camera into the case hanging around my neck, I decide that it was a worthy detour - until I hear the voices.

Several voices intersperse with hyena cackling, drawing nearer.

It's too late to run, so hiding is my only option. Thinking quickly, I climb into the fountain, hoping it's deep enough to hide me if I squat down. My feet splash in up to the calves but before I can duck down, the group comes into view. Jasper is flanked by three equally-large figures.

"So I told him I don't give a- well, if it isn't little miss La Piss!"

The group stops short when they see me trying to hide. More laughter echoes around the space.

"Do you always bathe out here?"

"You didn't tell us your new _friend_ was such an exhibitionist, Jasper!"

Cheeks burning, I clamber back out of the fountain and into the predator's waiting maw.

"She's not so bad, guys. She says the funnies things! Come on, La Piss, tell everyone what you told me this morning."

Jasper's false-friendly act brings the taste of bile to my throat. It's all too much, to act like she isn't making my life hell while laughing it all off and pretending she's justified because we're _friends_. Furious, I grind out a response through clenched teeth, hands balled into pathetic fists at my sides.

"My name is Lapis."

But none of them hear. They're too busy laughing about Jasper's little nickname for me. So I say it louder and with more confidence. My words echo off of the trees surrounding us.

"My name is Lapis!"

This gets their attention and Jasper turns in amused smirk on me, the kind adults use to condescend to children.

"Sorry guys, she can be a little slow sometimes. I meant the thing we talked about this morning."

I don't know where it comes from; some dark, reckless corner of my mind pulls out the words I really want to say and shoves them into my mouth before I can censor them.

"Oh, you mean the part where I told you to go _fuck yourself?_ "

Jasper's groupies howl with laughter like a pack of werewolves on the the night of the full moon.

"She got you good, Jasper!"

"Did you teach her that kind of language?"

Despite the minor victory, I only feel cold fear gnawing at the pit of my stomach. Jasper is clearly not happy that her plaything is no longer lying back and taking her abuse. She covers the distance between us in a few quick strides and I try to back away, only to feel the fountain at my back.

"That's no way to talk to a friend," Jasper says menacingly under her voice.

Before I know what happened, I find myself on the ground. My left cheek and temple throb with pain and air refuses to enter my lungs. I watch as four pairs of feet leave my field of vision and wait till the ringing in my ears quiets, then sit up slowly, alone again with the fountain.

After splashing a bit of the cool water onto my face, I finally head home feeling hollow and empty. My feet drag and mind is heavy with all the things that went wrong today.

Stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, there is some actual Lapidot interaction coming very soon. It's always darkest before the dawn!
> 
> You'll notice I changed the names of the Crystal Gems while keeping the Homeworld Gems the same. This is because I felt that 'Lapis' and 'Peridot' are odd enough to actually sound like real human names, while Amethyst etc. isn't that believable for a human!AU name. And I rather like subtle name alterations. c: Thanks for reading and I hope you look forward to Chapter 3!


	3. Lapis Lazuli

> "Broken lines  
>  Across my mirror  
>  Show my face  
>  all red and bruised."
> 
> Under the Water - The Pretty Reckless

_Ugh, this is pure torture._

"ASCII, the abbreviated form of _American Standard Code for Information Interchange_ , is useful in that..."

I stare blankly at the computer screen in front of me, chin propped up on my left palm, as the teacher drones on endlessly. I couldn't care less about what's inside these damn things or why they even work. Black magic seems as likely as anything else - and I'm just fine leaving it a mystery.

The one good thing about Computer Science is that we sit facing our monitors rather than the teacher, making it easy to get away with sleeping through class. I do just that, letting my eyelids slip closed and the monotonous voice slowly recede to the back of my mind. I stayed up too late last night after the altercation with Jasper and her bringing tears prickling to my eyes and a curse to my lips. I manage to fight the pain down by digging my fingernails into my palms until it passes. As my bleary eyes settle into focus on my computer screen, I notice that something is different from before. There is now a small window open with text in it.

A chat window?

_Peridot: did Jasper give you those bruises?_

Bewildered, I glance around the room for any sign of who might be contacting me now of all times, but all I see are more bored expressions. The boy next to me is playing Solitaire. Several others appear to be sleeping. There are three rows of computer stations, two running along parallel walls with the third along the wall joining them; a large desktop and projection system takes up most of the center space. Before I can check out the opposite side of the room, the teacher starts to pace up my row and I duck back down to avoid drawing attention to myself.

I count to ten before taking another peek, craning my neck to get a better view over the projector. What I see is the last thing I expected; nestled into the corner opposite me is the very same girl I met in the restroom and saw in the cafeteria - the one who I thought must be a freshman. The one who made sure I didn't leave without my camera. The one who looked as lonely as I felt.

Could she be this Peridot who is messaging me?

Settling back into my seat, I consider how to respond. It still feels weird and slightly creepy that someone I've barely met is trying to strike up a conversation with a messaging thing I didn't even know existed - but the possibility that I _have_ somewhat met this person makes me marginally more confident. When I click in the window, a pop-up asks me to input a sender name before I can enter a message. Picking at the keys slowly with just my pointer fingers, I eventually type out a response.

**_Lapis: are we allowed to do this during class?_ **

Just moments after I press enter, a reply appears beneath my message.

_Peridot: just hide the window when the teacher is nearby_

I glance at the teacher on the other side of the room, then back at my screen, utterly perplexed.

**_Lapis: how do I do that?_ **

_Peridot: click the minimize button_

This reply comes even faster than the last. To my amusement, I realize that I read it in an exasperated tone; this Peridot person is probably getting frustrated by my lack of computer skills. Sighing, I scan my keyboard for whatever this minimize button is, but I really don't know what I should be looking for. At the risk of showing the true extent of my ineptitude, I type out another short message.

**_Lapis: which key is that?_ **

Peridot's response to this brilliant question takes far longer than her previous messages. I start to wonder if she gave up on me and begin to pay attention to the teacher for once.

"...so this hexadecimal code would be equivalent to..."

Nope, still not bored enough for that. Luckily, the teach seems to have stopped circling the room, choosing instead to pontificate from his desk. This makes me less worried about finding the minimize key.

_Peridot: ..._  
_Peridot: oh wow you're clueless_  
_Peridot: i guess this explains why you type so slowly_

After a quick lesson on the chat system, we get away from the topic of my computer illiteracy and onto a more painful one - my swollen face.

_Peridot: so jasper did you in right?_  
_Peridot: it wouldn't be the first time it's happened you know_  
**_Lapis: yeah_**  
**_Lapis: she may have cornered me in ashwood park_**  
**_Lapis: she and her fellow neanderthals_**  
_Peridot: I knew it_  
_Peridot: what did you do?Peidot: did you throw a tantrum like that morning in the bathroom?_  
_Peridot: that scared the hell out of me btw_  


The awkward memory of that time makes me glad we're not talking face-to-face right now. I try to make it seem as if it doesn't bother me when I type my next reply.

**_Lapis: oh shut up_**  
**_Lapis: i may have told her to **** off or something_**  
**_Lapis: wow this is censored?_**  
_Peridot: yeah it's lame_  
_Peridot: so you told jasper off?_  
_Peridot: you either have guts or no brains_  
**_Lapis: now i just have bruises_**  
_Peridot: hahahaha_  
_Peridot: well if you want to survive here_  
_Peridot: you just need to learn to stay out of the way_  
**_Lapis: i've been trying but she doesn't leave me alone_**  
_Peridot: it should get easier after a while_  
_Peridot: it did for me at least_  
**_Lapis: were you bullied too?_**

The lengthy wait for Peridot's next response tells me all I need to know.

* * *

Peridot and I continue to message each other during Computer Science for the next week and a half. We still haven't met in person yet; we both seem to have a strict anti-social policy in place. We still sit alone at lunch and pass through the halls like we're ghosts that no one else can see. It turns out that she was subjected to the treatment I've been experiencing, right up until my transfer. She jokingly thanked me for taking the burden when she mentioned that, although I get the feeling there was more behind it than humor. She definitely seems to understand what I've been through, though her bullying experience was of a more generic nature.

I still haven't told Peridot for what reason the high school social hierarchy has condemned me; she isn't ready to know that yet, and I'm certainly not willing to tell. Assuming she hasn't already found out, that is. But she hasn't pressured me or otherwise hinted at any such knowledge as of yet. We mostly just share our mutual dislike of Jasper or complain about teachers and classes. To be honest, it feels like we're pen pals who just happen to be attending the same school. It's an improvement of sorts.

Still, it would be nice to have a real friend here. This small taste of what I lost after my move makes me crave it more than I thought possible. Perhaps it is with this in mind that I find myself breaking the promise I made to keep to myself until graduation.

**_Lapis: do you ever get lonely?_**  
_Peridot: eh not really_  
**_Lapis: but you always eat alone_**  
**_Lapis: and i've never seen you talk to anyone_**  
_Peridot: i talk to you_  
_Peridot: dork_  
**_Lapis: whatever nerd_**  
**_Lapis: i'm serious though_**  
**_Lapis: don't you want friends?_**  
_Peridot: who here is worth being friends with?_  
**_Lapis: me?_**  
_Peridot: a technophile befriending a technophobe?_  
_Peridot: you're gonna have to get used to numbers_  
_Peridot: 918-647-8086_  
**_Lapis: thanks Peridot_**  
_Peridot: what for?_  
**_Lapis: being my first new friend_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly late and shorter chapter this time. I've been running low on drive for this story lately, and you know what would help? Reviews! Critique, tell me what you think (good or bad), where you think the story is going, what you'd like to see in the future, etc. would keep me motivated. Above all, I want this story to contribute something enjoyable to the fandom.
> 
> -yurImperial


	4. Peridot

> "Excuse me sir,  
>  Am I your daughter?  
>  Won't you take me back,  
>  Take me back and see?"
> 
> Under the Water - The Pretty Reckless

_Damn Terran jerks! Stay on your own worthless dirt clod planet!_

I watch as my Nexus explodes into millions of crystalline shards, a Game Over pop-up overlaying the remains of an utter massacre. Oily black clouds spew from my demolished Pylons, my Warp Gate lies in ruin, and the few remnants of my Void Ray fleet are stranded half-way across the map. It wasn't even a close game; I lost miserably.

I utter a curse, down the last of my Mtn. Dew, and slam the empty can back down onto my desk. With a few angry clicks, I shut Starcraft down and fume silently in the darkness of my room, awash in the solitary light glowing from the desktop monitor. I try to replay the match in my head to review my mistakes, but other thoughts intervene and make it impossible. Normally, if anything, I would be distracted by a programming project that has me stumped, but even that doesn't typically encroach on my gaming. This time is different. This time, it's a _person_ that fills my head and ruins my concentration every time she crosses my mind.

It's unusual and unexpected and totally _aggravating_.

Swiveling my chair away from the desk, I remove my glasses and rub at my eyes wearily. This quickly becomes a mistake as a familiar image appears behind my eyelids - that girl, Lapis, stares back at me like a wounded fawn in front of the bathroom mirror, her mousy brown hair ruffled, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen. A spike of some unrecognizable emotion pierces my chest. I groan, shove my glasses back onto my face, and dissolve the scene in neon LCD illumination. The digital clock in the lower corner of the screen reads 10:14.

My stomach makes a hollow grumbling noise, so I finally give in to its demands.

As I clump up the stairs to the ground floor, I notice the quiet pervading the house. Mom would usually have the television blaring, but the lack of insipid game show or reality TV noise tells me that it's one of _those_ nights. I pad barefoot into the kitchen and pull the fridge open, where I find a covered dish on the middle rack and not much else. I take it out and pull back the plastic wrap as I carry it to the dining table, but my heart falls upon seeing the contents. Inside is tuna salad doused in mayonnaise. My stomach churns in distaste; I hate mayonnaise with a passion, and mom should know that.

As I stare unseeing at the dinner left for me, another image forms unbidden in my mind: purple-bruised cheek and temple, wilted posture that screams _I've given up_. That funny feeling returns at full force, nearly buckling my knees.

Shaking my head to clear it, I take one more disgusted look at the dish in my hands and dump it into the trashcan on my way to the cupboard. Inside is more disappointment; a sack of flour, a few cans of tomato paste, a jar of peanut butter, a case of white rice, and a large box of saltines. But on the very top shelf is a brand-new, bright blue bag of cool ranch Doritos. Score.

After swiping another Mtn. Dew, I head back down to the basement with my bounty, already sipping from the can before I've nudged the door closed with my toe. My machine starts up when I jiggle the mouse like a pet that spends its free time waiting to be offered attention. As the desktop comes into view, displaying all the games in which I could lose myself until early morning, I find that, curiously, none interest me. The chip I place in my mouth, too, seems devoid of all those flavors and spices coating I expect to find. I crunch it irritably between my teeth and set the bag aside, hunger forgotten.

I just can't stop thinking about _her_.

This funk can't possibly last forever.

And rather than waiting for it to go away on its own, I try to force it down with a familiar routine. Clapping my headphones over my head, I double-click an icon shaped like a 'D' on my desktop and try to lose myself in Diablo III for the next few hours. Around 2 AM, I vaguely register the sound of the front door closing, a pair of voices, two pairs of footsteps tramping down the hallway above. Sighing, I type an ambiguous message to my party members about getting off for a while and sign out. These Greater Rift runs aren't going so well, anyway. But when I find myself once again alone in the dark, I lean back in my desk chair and stare up at the ceiling, wonder what in the hell is wrong with me.

The bulge of my phone burns a hole in my pocket. Inside it is a string of ten digits - ten ordinary, unassuming numbers that have no business making my heart race the way it does, like I've been doing jumping jacks.

Lapis's typed words flicker through my memory: _do you ever get lonely?_

Of course I don't. I've mostly taken care of myself since I was eight, since dad left and mom stopped paying me much attention. I don't need friends or parents who care. I _don't_. They're just not worth it.

So why did I accept Lapis's offer?

I look down at my phone, which appeared in my hands at some point without bothering to tell my brain. I swipe my thumb across the screen to unlock it and give my contacts list a death glare for tempting me like this. What would I even say to her? _Hi? How are you? Are you okay? Do you want to talk? I like y-_

[/thoughts]

Shutdown.

Reboot.

I drop my phone abruptly, pace over to my bed, and face-plant into a pillow. Forget about school tomorrow; my brain is obviously broken and I'm going to pass out until it's fixed.

* * *

Or so I thought.

At some indeterminate point in the future, a text alert rattles my phone, which translates into an obnoxiously loud buzz on the wood flooring. I groan and have to practically drag myself across the room to retrieve it. Despite the dull illumination my computer monitor is still giving off, when I unlock my phone's screen and it flares up with sudden brightness, I have to resist the overwhelming urge to screech like a burning vampire. Through gathering tears and the bleary haze of sleep that still shrouds my mind, I read that it's 6:43 AM. For fuck's sake, who could be messaging me this early? That burning question, and that alone, prevents me from tossing the damned device across the room and pulling the sheets back up over my head.

I tap the text message to open it.

_From: Lapis Lazuli_  
_Sent: 6:39 AM_  
_"Hey, want to walk home_  
_together after school?"_

Both my temper and lethargy immediately dissipate when I read the sender name. Replacing both feelings is a rising tide of - what? Is this anxiety? Joy? It may be both, and yet it feels like something more. I don't know what to call this sensation that my chest is tightening and filling with water. A heart attack? Asphyxiation? It's totally alien to me.

Hey, maybe an alien is going to burst out of my chest.

A delirious laugh bubbles out of me and I realize that I'm nearly hyperventilating, so I close my eyes until I can breathe normally again. There. Now calmly think about your response - not how you feel about the suggestion or about _her_ , just start with a confirmation that you saw the text. I settle on a default 'disgruntled but open to conversation' response of _"Do you have any idea what time it is?"_

Her reply arrives moments later.

_From: Lapis Lazuli_  
_Sent: 6:52 AM_  
_"Yeah. Sorry. I wake up early._  
_So, does this mean you don't_  
_want to...?"_

I stare at this message for a long time. So long, in fact, that she sends another and I end up staring at _that_ one.

_From: Lapis Lazuli_  
_Sent: 7:20 AM_  
_"You don't have to, it's cool._  
_We can just keep chatting_  
_in comp sci if you want..._  
_I'll wait at the north exit_  
_in case you do. Sorry again_  
_for the early message."_

Once I've read over the words enough times to have them memorized, I groan inwardly and lie back down. I wasn't even going to show up at school today. I don't want to think about any of this - I don't want to _feel_ any of this. But damn it, those messages are almost as pitiful as doe-eyed Lapis crying in front of the mirror. As much as I hate it, I know there's no way I can skip, now. Even when she thinks she's being rejected, she's so damn nice about it. So annoying.

And yet, I find myself willing giving in to the feeling.

Shit, I guess I'm gonna have to get ready for school.

* * *

I ended up cutting it close; even skipping a shower (not breakfast, I was too hungry after missing last night's dinner), throwing on yesterday's jeans and an old Triforce tee, and scraping my bed-head back into a messy pony-tail, I barely squeezed into homeroom before the starting bell finished ringing. The rest of the day went smoothly, though; if you leave out my nauseated anticipation of meeting Lapis in person, that is.

When my last class of the day rolls around, I begin to consider calling it off. I never did respond to her last two messages, so I'm not committed - except for the fact that coming to school was pointless if I don't go. I glance at the clock for the umpteenth time and gnaw on my pencil, the lesson forgotten since taking my seat. All I can do is run through possible scenarios in my head. Will she be there? Will she be upset that I didn't answer? Does she live near me? What should we talk about? Does this make us friends now?

Ironically, even with all my clock-watching, I almost miss the final bell, so busy am I chasing thoughts down imaginary rabbit-holes. I jump when someone's arm brushes past me on their way out of the classroom, snapping me back to the present. A lump forms in my throat as I gather my things; it doesn't take long - I didn't even take out my notebook - but I move with deliberate slowness in an attempt to put off making a decision.

Do I join Lapis or not?

I almost don't. The coward in me shrinks my frame in on itself as I exit the building so that Lapis doesn't spot me. But the side of me that still can't quite figure itself out looks around for the transfer student - and finds her standing in the shade of a tree just ten feet away from the doors. I can still escape; the crowd of home-bound students provides more than enough cover to hide me from view. When I see her standing there, shading her eyes with a forearm and vigilant for the short geek she wants to befriend, I realize the risk she's taking. Waiting around Jasper's hunting ground when she and her goons are on the prowl is the last thing Lapis should be doing while she's still their prime target - yet here she is.

And there's something inviting about the way she looks today, dappled by shifting leaf-shade with a breeze fluttering her skirt about her knees. Curiously, I find my feet carrying me toward her.

She perks up when she spots me leaving the pavement and gives a small wave. I hunch my shoulders and walk faster until I join her beneath the tree. Now that I'm closer, I notice that she stands a little rigid, as if she, too, is nervous about this whole thing. I'd like to say that our shared discomfort makes me more relaxed, but it doesn't. My insides squirm even more in her presence, and I can barely meet her eyes.

"Um, hey."

"Hi."

She smiles around the one syllable just as the foliage shifts, admitting a shaft of mellow sunlight to penetrate our shady cocoon.

Her features look almost ethereal in this light, like a delicate veneer hiding deeper emotions: soft caring eyes the stormy blue-gray of roiling seas; spindly and elegant fingers; lips that look like they're comfortable laughing and wearing a smile, but haven't had reason to in some time. I realize that I'm staring, but Lapis doesn't seem to mind my scrutiny, just leans serenely against the tree with wisps of hair blowing around her face. I clear my throat and blurt the next thing I think of, glad that it's not in the same vein as my observations.

"So, which way do you live?"

"My uncle's place is on Rosemary Avenue."

"Oh, that's on my way. We better get going, then; who knows when Jasper will rear her ugly head?"

We both laugh, Lapis's easy and melodic, mine sounding nasal and contrived to my own ears. The worst of the crowd has thinned by now, so I start down the west walkway, but freeze in place at the sensation of a spark racing up my left forearm. I whirl on Lapis, my wrist captured in her hand, her lower lip pinched between her teeth. Like flipping a switch, her air of ease is gone, replaced by hesitation.

"Um... it's just, I usually go the other way around," she murmurs. "It takes longer, but I usually avoid Jasper that way."

There's a pleading look in her eyes when she meets my gaze. Of course I don't have the heart to refuse.

I nod weakly and let her pull me in the opposite direction until she realizes the lingering contact. The weird feeling from last night returns as she drops my hand and we follow the long curve of the sidewalk side-by-side. As we leave the school grounds behind, we enter a tunnel of trees bordering the park, their leaves beginning to stain the rich golds of early autumn. We pass through alternating light and shadow where it lays across our path, the two of us wrapped in a soft blanket of mutual silence.

My gaze hasn't left my shoes since we started walking, but now I risk a glance at the girl next to me. Her face is lifted to the sun-gilded canopy high above; unlike the times I've seen her in school, she carries her head and shoulders high, the lines of her face slack with tranquility. She manages to look pretty in such a simple, elegant way. I suddenly feel self-conscious, my messy hair and homely wardrobe feeling awkward, off-putting.

Then she's looking back at me in surprise, and her face cracks into a smile of pure sincerity. Her eyes, so soft, wink shut so that it can continue growing to fill her face.

I avert my gaze, blushing from the intensity of emotion she radiates. Not for the first time, I wonder if there is something wrong with me. My heart is racing, yet these emotions hit a brick wall on their way to the surface; I don't know how to present myself, so I go to my default, internal isolation.

Still, Lapis doesn't seem to mind. She keeps grinning as though privy to some inside joke of which I'm not aware - a curious little quirk to the line of her mouth that curls more in one corner and forms dimples in her cheeks. She looks just content to be here - to be with me. I don't know why.

"Well, we're here."

I stop abruptly, surprised by her voice after the long walk in silence. The trees gave way to houses as we turned onto the main boulevard cutting through the residential district of town, and Lapis stands at the intersection of Rosemary and Main; I live two blocks down on Thyme Ave. She resembles a sapling struggling to stand upright within a windstorm, one arm crossed over her midsection. Unlike her easy calm when we were walking, she now struggles to even meet my gaze. Her bruises no longer show, but I can _feel_ them in her sudden insecurity.

She flickers a glance at me, starts to turn down the street, but I stop her.

"Hey-"

I'm almost as shocked as she is to hear my voice break the stillness. I don't know what I was planning to say, but apparently something deep inside me does.

"Same thing tomorrow?"

A brilliant smile breaks over her face like the dawn.

Then she turns, and I watch her skirt swish all the way down to the end of the street, complex and unnameable feelings swirling like a hurricane within me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, folks! We're gradually getting fluffier, one step at a time. c;
> 
> It sucks that I can't use the inequality symbols, as they don't show up on the page. =/ I hope any HTML users reading this will forgive me for substituting brackets.
> 
> I'd like to thank all of you who have followed and favorited so far. I hope my writing has brought you even half of the joy I feel when I see new followers and reviews. I'd also like to give a special thanks to FlameyCat (FFN), who seems to be my #1 fan at the moment. XD You have my gratitude for inspiring this chapter, motivating me to finish it when I did, and for being so encouraging~
> 
> It's always pleasantly warm here in Lapidot hell. B)
> 
> -yurImperial


	5. Lapis Lazuli

~

_What is Peridot like in person?_

This question has been plaguing me night and day. I know, I spend a lot of time talking to her and walk with her every day after school, so shouldn't I already know what she's like? Maybe I should clarify.

I'd like to know what Peridot is really _truly_ like.

I want to see her when she's comfortable with her surroundings. When she isn't worried about the public eye. Peridot sans defensive mechanisms. The inner workings of the machine we call a Peridot and what makes her tick. I want to pull back the drapes on her soul and stare into it.

Well, maybe that's a little dramatic.

It's just not what I remember about friendship. The witty and opinionated girl who has no qualms about referring to Jasper as a brick-nosed Neanderthal becomes a quiet introvert as soon as we meet in person. I mean I understand how hard it can be to talk to people, but now that we're starting to get closer, it's a little frustrating to run up against this wall separating us from an actual friendship. How can I call her my friend when I don't _really_ know her? What she likes, what she dislikes, how she thinks, all of her tics and mannerisms and body language and expressions. Things that come from spending time with someone. Isn't that how you judge the strength of a friendship - how well you know them on a personal level? Things like laughing at an unspoken joke and finishing each other's sentences?

Can I learn all of that the way we are now?

No, I don't think I can. So that's why I hatch a plan on my way to Computer Science - one that neither of us will enjoy initially, but will hopefully get us closer in the end. Sometimes you have to suck it up and make some sacrifices to get what you want.

When I get to the computer lab, I take my seat and glance at the Minecraft sweatshirt slumped over a keyboard in the opposite corner. There's already a message waiting for me by the time I log into my machine:

_Peridot: be glad you're not in my physics class_

Smiling, I start typing and perpetuate our daily routine.

**_Lapis: why is that?_ **

_Peridot: let's just say the others wouldn't understand the meaning of "vacuum" if they looked inside their own heads_

**_Lapis: i don't think a vacuum cleaner would fit in a person's head ;P_ **

_Peridot: very funny, Lazuli_

**_Lapis: i try_ **

**_Lapis: so what you're saying is that they would barely beat out a black hole in brightness?_ **

_Peridot: exactly_

**_Lapis: would you prefer history with penelope?_**

_Peridot: ew, no_

_Peridot: ignorance is funny_

_Peridot: but that girl is just obnoxious_

**_Lapis: i think she actually answered every question mr. ferguson asked the class today_ **

_Peridot: you have to understand_

_Peridot: her head would explode if she didn't say at least one word with over four syllables every ten seconds_

**_Lapis: the curse of the try-hard_ **

_Peridot: truly a fate worth commiserating_

_Peridot: oh shit I think I caught it_

**_Lapis: lmao_ **

We pass most of the class period like this, as usual. I'm so caught up in how easily we can talk through text that I almost forget about my plan.

**_Lapis: oh hey, i have an idea for something fun_ **

_Peridot: let's hear it?_

**_Lapis: why don't you teach me about computer stuff?_ **

This seems to catch her off-guard. I can tell because her replies are always fast - like, unfairly fast. But this time there's a lull before she answers.

_Peridot: i guess_

_Peridot: but that's what comp sci is for_

_Peridot: couldn't you just pay attention in class?_

**_Lapis: you don't_ **

_Peridot: i know this stuff already_

**_Lapis: then why take the class?_ **

_Peridot: easy credits, duh_

**_Lapis: then what do you normally do in class?_ **

_Peridot: besides im with you?_

_Peridot: mostly browse internet forums_

**_Lapis: ...what are those?_ **

_Peridot: you've gotta be kidding me Lazuli_

**_Lapis: see? i really do need help_ **

**_Lapis: which is why i think it would be great if you taught me_ **

**_Lapis: you know, in person_ **

This time her pause is so long that I begin to wonder if she stayed up too late last night and fell asleep on her keyboard, but no messages with random strings of characters appears. I glance at the clock anxiously, knowing that if we don't settle this now, I won't have the nerve to ask in person and my plan will be put off until next week. But eventually a response is forthcoming.

_Peridot: ok, sure_

A buzz of electricity shoots through my body. Two simple words, but they have such an effect on me. There's a noticeable tremor in my fingers when I type my next message.

**_Lapis: great_ **

**_Lapis: thanks_ **

_Peridot: someone has to catch you up to the 21st century I suppose_

_Peridot: you have a computer, right?_

**_Lapis: i think my uncle keeps a laptop in his study_ **

_Peridot: that will do_

**_Lapis: so my place after school today?_ **

_Peridot: yep_

Even though this is the last conversation we have until we get to my uncle's house later, the giddy energy coursing through me makes the wait almost bearable.

* * *

As we approach the chain-link fence, I realize that maybe I should have let my uncle know I was bringing a friend home. I could have phoned him on the way here, but it honestly never even crossed my mind. I'm not worried, though. Unlike my parents, he's incredibly laid-back, so I'm sure he won't have any objections.

Unhooking the unlocked padlock on the gate, I step back and let Peridot enter the back yard first, and let it swing it shut with out loud clang behind me. She instinctively follows the little cobbled path meandering through the yard - or as I call it, the Jungle. I don't think it's ever been mowed, at least not since radio was invented. Vines cover the fence in verdant curtains, turning chain links into solid walls of vegetation. If I had lived here when I was younger, I would have spent hours plundering the overgrowth for lost relics. It seems like every time I walk through, something new catches my eye that I never noticed before - the corner of a wagon, a bicycle basket and handle, a glittering pile of wind chime pieces, the rusted blade of a windmill.

I catch Peridot studying the yard as well and smirk playfully.

"Sometimes I think this is all a big photo composition that my uncle has been working on for decades."

A blond head swivels to train incredulous lime-green eyes on me. I find myself blushing inexplicably and busy myself with unlocking the back door.

"Your uncle is a photographer?"

"Yeah," I huff as I jam my key into the rusted lock. It resists at first, but finally gives with just the right twist.

"He's a professional. Mostly does landscapes, so he travels a lot," I continue as I wedge the door open and lead Peridot into the hallway. None of the lights are on; instead, the curtains are drawn back to let the natural light filter through, alighting motes of dust like glimmering embers.

It's an open-plan building, but you wouldn't know it from the inside. As if the yard was only a prelude of things to come, the interior is cluttered with all manner of miscellaneous baubles, antique trinkets, and boxes upon boxes of various odds-and-ends stacked, in some cases, to the ceiling. The abundance is such that this sheer mass of _stuff_ creates architecture where the building planner hadn't envisioned any. It's not an unclean clutter, but certainly overwhelming to the uninitiated.

"Sorry about the mess. You know how the, uh, artistic types can be."

I try not to watch Peridot too closely as I guide her through the maze for fear of seeing a disgusted reaction. Instead, I focus on locating the stairs hidden behind a giant gaudy lamp, an old phonograph, and a retired ceiling fan. From there I turn left and the kitchen magically appears out of the clutter like a hidden oasis. Here there _is_ a light on and I catch what sounds like the cooking channel floating around the wall separating it from the rest of the house.

"I'm home," I call out from the other side of the bar-style counter. "I brought a friend."

"Oh, great! Are they staying for dinner?"

I glance back at Peridot, who looks for all the world like Alice just after falling down the rabbit hole into Wonderland, her blond hair frizzing out and eyes wide with confused caution. She stands awkwardly like she's trying desperately not to touch anything, even as she cranes her neck back to wonder at the chaotic world she finds herself in.

"Uh, no, she's just here to tutor me for a little while." I don't want to scare her away, after all. Baby steps. "Is it alright if we use your laptop?"

"Sure, it's in my study," he calls absently, accompanied by a sound that can only be described by picturing a juicer and an eggbeater engaging in some sort of vulgar acrobatic activity. I know better than to ask, so instead I lead Peridot up the short flight of stairs to uncle's study.

As soon as I close the door behind us, I sense Peridot taking a relaxed breath. Here, it feels as though we're standing on higher ground where the flood of accumulated junk can't reach us. Although the study is no less busy - photos behind protective glass cover every inch of the walls, interspersed with small shelves proudly displaying antique cameras - it feels much less claustrophobic.

I don't think Peridot has looked at me once since entering the house; at first overwhelmed by the sheer volume of random crap, now she can only pace around the room staring at high-res photographs of skylines in Germany and Italy, Icelandic plains, the Alps, lakes that reflect the sky like mirrors, and other exotic landscapes. I'm content to watch her circle the desk in the middle of the room until she completes the circuit and I find those wide green eyes on me again. Their intensity seems to retreat when she notices me staring back and they shift their attention lower, my own eyes following to land on the small camera case slung over my shoulder.

"Oh."

I fiddle with the zipper and pull out the diminutive camera, holding it up between thumb and forefinger.

"It's an original German Rollei 35. Uncle picked it up on his travels." I flip it over and gaze fondly down at the black-and-chrome casing, a ghost of a smile gracing my lips. "Uncle gave it to me when... after I moved here."

My voice trails off as tears begin to prickle at my eyes. I feel Peridot's burning on me and force the smile back to my face with a shaky breath.

"It really saved me. I spent all my time learning and practicing with it. I think my uncle knew it would help me cope."

I turn it back around to Peridot's intelligent gaze.

"See, this is no ordinary camera. The shutter speed and aperture dials are unusually prominent of the front face. The film runs in the opposite direction of most cameras. The winding lever is on the wrong side, meaning you can't wind the film while looking through it. Also, the hot shoe is mounted on the bottom, so you have to turn it upside down to get the correct flash lighting." I point out each component as I mention them. "And the combination of scale focusing and lack of a rangefinder means you have to judge shooting distances with your own intuition. That part took me months to learn. I had to spend a lot of time with it to discover its quirks, but now it's my best friend."

My face heats up as I realize I'm gushing.

"Um, in short, it's eccentric and fun and practically indestructible," I finish, tapping the metal casing with a finger.

"Kinda like you."

The comment passes so quietly that I don't dare trust my ears. When I glance up at her, Peridot is looking away again, eyes resolutely fixed on a photo.

"So yeah, the computer."

I reach out and lift the lid of the laptop. The Apple logo appears as it starts up and Peridot grunts like she finds it offensive, but only raises her eyebrows at my questioning gaze. It bypasses the password confirmation completely and we end up on the desktop.

"Okay, where do we start?"

"You probably need a refresher on the basics."

Peridot takes me though the menus and makes me repeat her steps to see if I can find the same directories. She also teaches me some computer lingo, like 'directories.' After only an hour, I find that I can at least follow what she says now, even if I don't exactly feel confident about navigation yet. It's a lot easier to understand verbally, just as I assumed. But if I'm honest, this isn't the real reason why I wanted to spend time with Peridot.

"Okay, now pull up the properties on that file."

I double click the .mp3 (I know what it's called now!) and jump when music suddenly blares from the speakers. My hand hovers over the mouse, unsure of what to do with it. Peridot's hand flies over just as I reach for it, causing our fingers to brush together. She jerks her hand back as if the contact burned, then taps the space bar and the room goes quiet again.

It's strange, the feeling of oversensitivity. Whether it's the absence of music or the unexpected skin contact, I can' be certain, but suddenly every sound, every motion, captures my attention with laser-like focus. Peridot's entire body is frozen except for the fingers of her right hand, which continue to twitch with indecision. God, why is it so hot in here?

"R-right click," Peridot stammers over the roar of blood in my ears.

"What?"

"Properties. You're supposed to right click. For the properties menu."

She hesitates before reaching across my lap for the mouse and demonstrates, but focusing on anything other than our proximity is simply beyond me.

"You're really good with this stuff."

Peridot forces a laugh and fidgets in her seat.

"Did you mean it?" I find myself blurting out.

A flash of green. Eyes on my face, traveling down to my lips, at least I think they did that, maybe I'm wrong but I think she's staring at-

"Mean what?"

Sweat trickles between my shoulder blades. I swallow past the dryness in my throat.

"You said it earlier. Or I said it. I said something and you agreed. Or something. Didn't you?"

Peridot blinks, wipes her hands on her jeans, closes her gaping mouth, and nods slowly.

"I mean, I still can't believe you told Jasper off - _with_ all her friends there."

"Yeah, well, Jasper isn't all that tough..."

"No, she's not. Not like you, Lapis."

I hear something shattering from very far away. Logic tells me that my uncle dropped a plate downstairs, but an image thrusts itself in front of my eyes instead. A green-tinted glass barrier between Peridot and I, cloudy and nearly opaque, splinters and falls to the floor in crumbling pieces. For what feels like the very first time, I _see_ Peridot. I see the inward slump of her shoulders, though not as severe as I remember. The scowl she perpetually wears in school is gone, allowing a faint trace of vulnerability to show through her eyes, unflinching, which I'm amazed to find are ever so expressive. And there's a healthy pink flush to her normally pale skin.

Grinning at my own cheesy imagination, I turn back to the laptop and try not to seem too happy. We may not be best friends just yet, but this is a start. A very good start, in fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, at long last: chapter 5. I'm now working on two stories simultaneously, so updates will be a little farther between. Why do I do this to myself? Anyways, I hope you enjoy~
> 
> -yurImperial


	6. Lapis Lazuli

_I don't dislike rainy days._

Most people find them depressing and I'm not really sure why. I guess that's yet another thing that sets me apart from everyone else. The way I see it, what could possibly be depressing about the most positive life-giving phenomenon on earth? That it hides the sun behind clouds? That it prevents you from playing outside? I feel sorry for the people who have never felt cool rain on their skin during summertime or tasted its freshness straight out of the air.

I sigh wistfully as I gaze out at the downpour during History. I'm fortunate enough to have a desk right by a window, but it doesn't show any sign of stopping before the end of the period. It's funny that just this morning, there wasn't a cloud in the sky until this surprise shower popped up half-way through the day, leaving everyone unprepared. I guess Ashwood thinks it's still late April instead of early October. I don't mind getting a little wet and all, but it's a long enough walk home to make for an uncomfortably thorough soak. I'm sure Peridot would rather wait it out, too.

I glance at the front of the classroom briefly, then down at my blank pages of notes. I want to pay attention - I love Native American culture and we just got to the invasion by the European settlers - but the sound of rain drumming on the roof is too soothing, like leaving the TV on low volume while you sleep. A gentle whisper to remind you that outside your minuscule bubble, the world is still alive and turning. It drowns out soft-spoken Mrs. Fitch completely, so my attention has nowhere to go but out the window - and there it stays until the end of class.

When the final bell eventually rings, the rain is coming down even harder. Gone is the usual scramble of students exploding to hurry home. No one wants to be here anymore, but no one wants to be out there, either. The only middle-ground is to lackadaisically gather one's things and trudge through the hallways, delaying the inevitable call to a family member for a ride or a sprint home through the deluge.

"Hey," Peridot says when I find her seated on the top step leading down to the sidewalk at the east entrance. Her greeting is less whisper than usual, though she still stares at her shoes when I take a seat beside her.

"Hi."

Unsure of how to ease her discomfort, I find my fingers playing at my skirt hem of their own will and feel Peridot almost flinch when the back of my left hand inadvertently grazes her knee. Suddenly all I can think of is our proximity in uncle's study last Friday, the heat of her presence, the queasy butterflies it stirred in my stomach.

Without thinking, I slide down the steps to sit at the very bottom. While the overhang above manages to keep out the worst of the rain, stray droplets blow in to sprinkle my bare arms and face. It's refreshing after the sudden feverish wave of heat burning up my neck and into my cheeks, and even better that Peridot can't see my reaction from this angle.

For a moment, we just sit and watching the rain. It pounds the pavement with a low roar that reminds me of the ocean, which gives me an idea. Removing my shoes, I reach one leg out and dip my bare foot to the sidewalk. Already a half-inch of water covers the surface. My toes submerge and I bring my heel down to join them, then my other foot, sighing happily.

"You really like water, don't you?"

Leaning back against the steps behind me, I gaze up at the sky. The clouds are mostly gone and the sun is shining through, though a mist hangs over it and the rain still refuses to relent.

"I practically grew up in the sea," I start slowly. "Swimming, diving, surfing - you name it, I was doing it before I was ten years old."

"Then why move here and leave that behind?"

I make a pained face.

"Family stuff. And school stuff. I came to stay with my uncle for a while, to make a new start at a new school with new friends."

I wiggle my toes in the water. Peridot is quiet for a moment, then her voice comes again, closer. I think she moved down a step or two.

"You must miss it."

When I don't respond, she continues.

"You know we have a swim team, don't you?"

I go still for a moment, a breath caught in my chest, then shrug one shoulder and go back to swirling my toes in the water.

"I've never been on a team before," I return dismissively. To be honest, the prospect sounds like more trouble than it's worth. Just more chances to get on someone's bad side.

"I think you should just do it."

I feel a hand land on my shoulder and turn to look at her. She moved down to the second step above mine. After a moment, she removes her hand and crosses her arms over her middle before giving me a pointed look.

"Our team sucks. They could use someone with experience to keep them afloat."

A hint of the snark that I'm used to finding in our text communication colors her voice with familiarity. I let my lips form a smile as I turn back to the rain.

"I'll think about it."

The clouds have really disappeared now, letting the sun is shine brightly through the curtain of rain. A rainbow arcs high overhead, and looking closer, I spot a second, duller one nearly crossing one of the legs. My camera is already out by the time I get to my feet, a delighted sound escaping my lips. Peridot presses in behind me as I set the focus to max, adjust the aperture accordingly, and snap a photo.

"Woah, a double rainbow."

When I look at her questioningly, she cracks a wry grin.

"It's a reference to a viral video."

I wonder how long I'll have to stare blankly at her until she starts to make sense.

"It's a video of this guy who sees a double rainbow while camping in the woods. He's totally high and freaking out like it's the craziest shit he's ever seen," Peridot elaborates.

"Ah, the infamous double rainbow!"

Peridot and I whirl toward the unexpected voice behind us, where a boy with curly blond hair stands in the doorway.

"I'm Ronaldo. You might know me from my paranormal blog, _Keep Ashwood City Weird_."

Flabbergasted, Peridot and I exchange dumb glances.

"You know, there is evidence that rainbows are actually caused by other-dimensional light refracted through micro-holes in the fabric of space-time. This resonates with several string theory postulates and suggests that the convergence of two such phenomena - a 'double rainbow' -" here he pauses to give air quotes, "Could function as a portal into another dimension!"

By the end of his diatribe, Ronaldo's voice has risen to an ecstatic shout. Peridot and I are stunned into silence, unsure if he's actually serious or just trying to be funny. His knowledge is certainly astounding, despite the hilariously far-fetched conclusions her draws from it. Surprising me further, Peridot starts laughing. At first it's just a low chuckle, but the more she gives into it, the louder it grows until she's hugging her sides and bent over double on the concrete steps.

"Yeah, sure, laugh like everyone else. Just more sheeple unaware of how much is hidden from us by society."

He shrugs it off well, but I recognize the hurt of rejection in his posture. As weird as he might be, I feel bad for Ronaldo. He's really not much different from us, when you think about it.

"I wouldn't mind hearing more about - uh, other-worldly rainbow portal, things. Maybe start with the theories, and we'll go from there?"

* * *

"He's a total freak, Lapis."

"No he's not. He's just misunderstood."

"He thinks rainbows are part of a conspiracy, for crying out loud!"

When Peridot navigates around a puddle, I just wade through, socks and shoes swinging at my side.

"Well he still knows more about astrophysics than me; I'm guessing the same goes for you, and maybe even the teachers."

"Yeah, whatever," Peridot grumbles petulantly as we turn off of the shaded path and onto Main Street.

"I just think he deserves a chance. I seem to remember doing the same for a certain anti-social computer geek."

Despite my joking tone, I make sure to flash a light-hearted grin to make sure she doesn't take me seriously. She just rolls her eyes.

" _Please_ , Lazuli. _I_ gave _you_ the chance, and we both know it," she jokes back, bumping my shoulder with hers. I lean away just in time to make her step into a puddle, splashing us both.

"Ugh, I just don't understand how you can have so many of the facts and still come to such wrong conclusions."

I consider patting Peridot on the head, but decide against it; I'm still a little shaky on where our physical boundaries as friends currently lie. It would be easier if she wasn't female, what with my... preference. Not that I would do anything that might ruin our friendship - it just makes things more awkward than they should be.

"At least go easy on him, okay?"

"Fine, fine. But if he brings up something else as asinine as rainbow portals, don't expect me to hold the laughter back for long. "

"Deal."

We continue in silence for the next block to my turn-off. I make sure to splash through every puddle in our path, earning a look from Peridot that says _How old are you?_ But I do notice when she kicks a toe at one while she thinks I'm not looking. By the time I finally look up from the sidewalk, we've almost passed my street. As usual, I find myself hesitating to part ways and linger at the intersection with one thumb looped under the strap of my backpack, shoes dangling from the other hand, chewing my lower lip.

"Hey, when do you think I can come and hang out at your place?" I call out.

Peridot stops and turns back to face me. Like a mask clicking back into place, her expression immediately turns unreadable. Maybe I was a little rude in asking, but what reason could she have to be defensive? It's not like I'm asking to move in or anything. Her mouth works for a moment before she finally finds her voice.

"It's not really a good time right now." She brings a hand up to shade her eyes from the setting sun, further hiding her face in shadow. "Mom's... kinda busy with stuff. Sorry."

My shoulders slump, but I nod in understanding.

"Walk again tomorrow?" I ask as I start towards uncle's house, walking backwards.

"Of course," she calls back, a hint of attitude returning. Then she turns around and I reluctantly do the same.

Sunlight glares over the rooftops, bathing everything in nostalgic auburn hues. Memories of summers past shuffle fleetingly though my mind: cresting waves outlined in fire, warm hands in mine, sea foam lapping at our ankles. The brightness hurts my eyes and I turn my back on the memory, unlocking the gate and stepping into the backyard.

As I walk the path up to the back door, tall grass hissing like waves all around me, I make a mental note to buy a new swimsuit sometime this week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us." (Alexander Graham Bell)
> 
> -yurImperial


	7. Lapis Lazuli

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to preface this with an apology to those who I promised a chapter taking place at Peridot's house. I decided to move that back in favor of a more light-hearted special chapter in response to Catch and Release. That episode left me devastated in a good way - it was an obvious start to a Peridot redemption arc, after all! Not to mention the much-needed character development for Peri, who, it turns out, is just as cute as we knew she would be. And knowing what future episodes have in store, it seems that our ship might not be pure crack for much longer. So rejoice, Peridot and Lapidot fans, rejoice!
> 
> I also wanted to put together a special playlist for this special chapter, but several of the songs I wanted to use are no longer on Youtube fsr, so yeah, I guess that's not happening. My main inspiration for this was Autumn Romance and In the Eyes of a Child, two gorgeous piano pieces by Philip Wesley. Look them up if you want some atmosphere, if you can find them. Anyway, that's enough from me. On with the show!
> 
> -yurImperial

~

The sky is an intense expanse of cerulean dotted with white cotton clouds, the air sharp and crisp. Fallen leaves make a soft cadence of crinkle-rustle whispers beneath our feet as we stroll along our secluded path beneath skeleton trees. It's one of those pristine autumn days where the weather is cool enough to wear warm stockings but not too cold for skirts.

I look over at Peridot - she's in the midst of excitedly retelling something that happened in a game she was playing last night, which I can't really follow - and I think to myself how cute she looks, like a little middle-schooler in a turtleneck with a stylized cat face on the front, her small hands barely reaching the cuffs of her sleeves. An innocuous fuzzy warmth settles in my chest as I watch her delve into her passionate monologue with single-minded zeal. I only comprehend a few of the words she uses, mostly the ones that aren't specific to the video game itself, but I'm content to just watch her emote and gesticulate openly without reserve. Knowing that she shows this openness only to me heightens the feeling in my chest so that I'm almost light-headed with it.

Suddenly struck by a peculiar compulsion, I find myself reaching out to link arms with Peridot while she makes a gesture. She pauses in her story and glances at me questioningly, but to my relief and vague surprise, she doesn't pull away. Our arms successfully link and she picks up where her story left off, albeit with slightly more red in her face. I nod along and keep pace with her, our elbows and inner arms rubbing, the smell of leaves and future snow on my tongue. After Peridot finishes her story, we lapse into amicable solitude. My fingers are itching to get out my camera and capture the striking leaf colors around us, but that would require releasing Peridot's arm and I have no intention of doing that just yet.

The sidewalk branches paths up ahead, the right leading to the suburban part of town, the left heading deeper into the park. When we reach the fork, I wordlessly tug Peridot to the left with our joined arms and laugh at her squeak of surprise. She glances behind us and then at me with one eyebrow raised, but my lips curve into a tightly-sealed grin. The path doubles back on itself in the direction we came from before cutting east across the park. Walls of bushes block our usual path from view; Peridot's head swivels this way and that as she tries to get her bearings. I laugh again and bump her shoulder with mine.

"Don't worry, I know where we're going."

"Oh? You're already an expert on the location after just one month?"

"Why yes, I am, as a matter of fact. What's your excuse?"

Peridot makes a noise of mock contempt.

"What sort of plebeian do you take me for? I only travel with my personal chauffeur leading the way, of course."

She grips my arm tighter, indicating that said chauffeur is none other than me.

"But do you know what season it is?"

"Of course; it's-"

"FALL!"

At the very moment I shout, I bring my right leg out to catch Peridot's left, tripping her into a large pile of leaves. Our linked arms prevent her from going down hard, but they also drag me with her and we end up in a shrieking, giggling heap, the bed of leaves cushioning our fall. The pile is so deep that we have to fight our way to the surface. When we come up, our heads and nothing else appearing from the mass, I turn to Peridot and have to bring a hand up to my mouth to stop an explosive laugh. A giant yellow leaf sits on top of her head, the stem stuck into her hair so that it sticks up like a lop-sided crown. Still fighting hard not to laugh, I give a small, seated bow.

"Your majesty."

The line barely escapes my lips before my composure crumbles completely. I burst into a fit of giggling and fall back to roll around on the ground, tossing leaves in all directions. Before I can get up, a wad of leaves lands on my face and I nearly inhale them, making me laugh even harder. When the pain in my sides finally lets up enough to sit up, I see Peridot standing above me with a grin on her face and leaves stuck to her sweater. She extends a hand to pull me up onto my feet, so I begrudgingly pluck the leaf from her hair. It floats down lazily to join the others.

We join arms again and continue until we hit another switchback. As we round the hedge, our destination comes into view - a children's playground, complete with slide, swing set, and monkey bars all contained in a pit of wood chips and hemmed in by tall, bare trees. Here, the ground is a brilliant collage of reds, oranges, golds, and umbers, each color clamoring to be the loudest amongst them. I turn to fix Peridot with a devious grin that says _You know you want to._

"Really?" She chuckles. "What are we, five?"

But despite her words, she lets me pull her to the swing set. I sit her down and watch her reluctantly grip the chains before grabbing hold of them just above her hands. She yelps when I pull back on them like she was expecting me to take the other swing, but I can't pass up this opportunity. After walking the swing back a few paces, I let go and watch her swing forward pitifully; when momentum carries her back again, I push her by the shoulders and she sails a foot higher. The next time, I run behind, pushing all the way until she swings high into the air. Ducking out of the way, I stand off to the side and watch her pendulum back and forth. She holds her arms tight to her sides, white-knuckled grip on the chains, legs stiff.

"Swing your legs!" I call out encouragingly.

She does, but when she swings forward again, her legs come out too fast and her feet collide with the ground, stopping her in her tracks and flinging her out of the seat altogether. I rush forward to catch her and just manage to grab the back of her sweater before she face-plants. Jeez, it's like she's never been on a swing before.

"You're really bad at this, you know," I say bluntly.

"Gee, thanks," Peridot grunts as she picks herself up.

"You just need a mentor. Here, let me show you how it's done."

I take her place on the swing and she goes to stand at the spot where I was watching, her arms crossed. Wrapping my forearms around the chains from the outside, I start by walking myself backwards to get some distance. When the chains pull tight, I sprint forward and lean back in the seat just as it catches up with me, letting it sweep me off the ground and send me as high as Peridot's highest altitude on my first go. I tuck my legs in on the back-swing and propel myself forward again with a well-timed kick-off at the lowest point in the arc before pumping my legs out to shift my center of mass. I repeat this process a few more times until I can reach the top of the swing set on sustained momentum alone. Laughing with exhilaration, I look down at Peridot following me with wide eyes.

"How's that for height!?"

She grows smaller as I hurtle back down to earth and away.

"It's all-"

I sail high enough to reach out and touch the crossbar of the swing right in front of my face. My insides rise into my throat as they catch up to the rest of me in a brief moment of weightlessness.

"-in the-"

My weight carries me inexorably to earth in a blur that shifts direction at the last very moment to swing me up and forward again, my hair blowing back and tears steaming behind me.

"-build-up!"

My skirt flaps violently around my knees like wings on which I'm getting ready to take off into the wide blue sky. I feel so weightless and unencumbered in this moment that such a thing wouldn't surprise me in the slightest. Movement catches my eye and I see Peridot running a short distance away to scoop some leaves up and carry them back in her arms. She waits until I'm hurtling toward her and tosses the bundle up just as I sail over her head; they explode into a flurry of color against me, my own laughter and the roar of wind filling my ears.

When I come back down, I drag my feet on the ground to halt the swing's motion and leap to my feet, my hair wild and breath coming in exhilarated gasps. I run past Peridot and grab her wrist, pulling her over to the slide where we climb the ladder together up to a platform and the yawning mouth of the tube slide. The plastic is a deep cherry-red bleached pink on top by expose to the sun. Without hesitation, I throw myself into the gaping maw feet-first, my voice echoing in the tight space as I shriek like a child the whole way down. Moments after landing at the bottom, Peridot's muffled screams catch up and she crashes into me from behind, leaving us to lay in a tangled and breathless mass of limbs. Peridot's laugh is an adorable _Nya-ha-ha_ that puts her cat sweater in a whole new context.

It takes a long moment to work out where one body ends and the other begins, and as we slowly catch our breaths, I realize how little the contact affects us now. It's not that we don't notice when our skin touches, but we no longer feel any shame in it. After helping each other up, Peridot races around to have another go at the slide. Meanwhile, I stay at the bottom and scrape leaves into a large pile at the bottom so that when she comes through again, she sinks into a foot-deep mound and flounders for help. Together, we build the pile up even bigger and punch holes through it with our own bodies; I try going down the slide head-first, an equally fun and terrifying experience that ends with a dry salad in my face.

When we get bored with the slide, we race over to the money bars. I laugh at Peridot's feeble attempt to cross with her scrawny arms - it doesn't help that she can barely work her fingers out of her sleeves to get a good grip. We shuffle more leaves into a bed of reds and oranges beneath the bars and pretend it's lava as we dangle above it. I climb up to the top and hang upside down by my legs, reaching out to Peridot as she attempts another crossing on shaky arms. She makes it to the middle, her best distance yet, and I reach out to stabilize her waist. My face is in line with the knees of her jeans which are stained with dirt from scooping leaf-piles. She whimpers and releases the bars to fall into the cushion beneath, where she makes sizzling sounds and feigns death-by-lava.

"My liege, I have let you drown!"

"You don't drown in lava," Peridot corrects me. "You'd burn before you ran out of air."

"Yeah, well, dead people don't talk, either," I shoot back.

"You could have prevented this!" she cries dramatically, sustaining it for a long moment before letting it die away gradually.

"Juliette!" I yell at the top of my lungs.

"Romeo..." Peridot groans as she crawls jerkily up the bars to my position.

"Romeo, I have returned to feast on your lover heart!"

"Eek, zombie Juliette!"

I leap down from the monkey bars and take off for the tree line, Peridot hot on my heals. I reach them first and duck behind one, hand clamped over my mouth to quiet my breathing. Only the sound of crunching leaves alerts me when she gets close. Thinking fast, I bend down to grab a handful of leaves like I'm preparing for a snowball fight. Just as she rounds the tree, I reach out and grab the back of her collar, pull it open far enough to fit my other hand, and drop the wad of leaves inside. Peridot yelps and jumps around patting her back as I make my getaway, but I don't get very far before I hear the pounding of feet pursuing me. It seems I have the upper hand in distance, but Peridot's short bursts of speed can overtake me easily; I blame energy drinks.

I veer in the direction of the slide and start climbing, hoping that Peridot is far enough behind to make it to the top before she catches me. Just as I get one knee on the platform, a hand latches into my other foot. We struggle for a moment before my shoe is yanked clean off and Peridot falls back on her butt, allowing me to scramble the rest of the way to safety, my chest heaving. Standing up, I open my mouth to brag but there isn't enough oxygen in my lungs to speak, so I settle for raising my fists into the air in a triumphant salute, a wide smile splitting my face.

Peridot climbs up and leans next to me after a moment, both of us silent except for our loud breathing. We stand shoulder-to-shoulder as we look out over the playground, a soft breeze tousling our hair. Peridot's is all frizzed out, making it look unbelievably even bigger than usual; she looks remarkably like a big-headed chibi anime character. There's a rosy glow to her cheeks and her brow is damp with sweat; I don't imagine she gets this much exercise, like, ever. This is confirmed when she sinks to her knees and leans back against the slide, still gasping for breath. I take a seat beside her, close my eyes, and just listen to her breathe.

We fall into another long silence borne of exhaustion and contentment. A warm breeze flutters past my arm and it takes me a minute to realize that it's not really a breeze at all. Still keeping my eyes closed, I let my body still and focus on touch. The tickle comes again, a butterfly-touch along my forearm and by my wrist. A flicker of movement by my pinkie, a warm graze against my arm, the sound of Peridot shifting slightly to my right. Finally, her hand slides next to mine and they make full contact length-wise, her left and my right, our little fingers brushing over one another. Electrical impulses shoot Morse Code signals through my body, jumping from her nervous system to mine through our shared contact. The silent message pulses in the rhythm of my heartbeat, the words lost in a static roar but the feeling of them burning bright neon afterglow through my body.

And I smile.


	8. Lapis Lazuli

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional Warning: mention of a teacher-student relationship, though it will not be focused on at all. More of a plot device than anything.

~

_Pools will never beat beaches - not that I have any choice right now._

The scent of chlorine stings my nostrils as I reach for the swim coach's office door. Glancing down, I notice puddles of water trailing through the hallway from the locker rooms. My eyebrows pinch together in distaste; someone could slip on the wet tiles and hurt themselves because of one student's carelessness. It only takes a minute to dry yourself off properly; how irresponsible. Sighing out, I make a mental note to bring it up with the coach after our meeting. My fingers tremble slightly on the door handle and it creaks open more loudly than I anticipated.

"But _Mikey_ -"

I stop in my tracks. The speaker - a tall girl in a sleek one-piece competition swimsuit - is leaning so far over the coach's desk that she's practically in his lap. Interrupted by my entrance, she all but leaps across the room, the previous conversation cut off mid-sentence. My brows shoot up, both at the guilty reaction and the surprising occupancy of the coach's office. The girl whirls on me with all the fury of a teenager whose parent has invaded the privacy of her bedroom without permission. I feel as though I should leave and come back later or at least wait out in the hall until they finish, but the coach doesn't miss a beat.

"Ah, Miss Lazuli," he greets me before addressing the other student. "This is the girl I mentioned, Ruby. She should be able to solve your problem."

The girl stalks up to me until she stands close enough to glower down her nose at me, hands resting haughtily on her hips. Droplets of pool water splatter me as she flicks damp ginger hair out of her face in a gesture meant to appear accidental. She examines me coldly, like a zoologist faced with an utterly ordinary specimen whose kind she has dissected hundreds of times. When she finally speaks, she does so as if I'm not even in the room.

"Your solution is a _freshman?_ "

"Sophomore, actually. She's a transfer," Mr. Jefferson responds for me - a good thing, since my face is already burning and I don't want this jerk to hear the quaver in my voice.

"She looks awfully green. We need someone with flawless butterfly technique, not a half-baked YMCA drop-out," the girl says, still eying me doubtfully.

Now she's just getting on my nerves. This may be one of the most important first impressions of my high school career, so I better not let myself get swept under the rug.

"I've been swimming and surfing since I could walk. I can handle myself just fine in the water," I shoot back at her. I cross my arms to show that I'm not backing down, but she just rolls her eyes and goes back to leaning on the desk. Mr. Jefferson winces as water drips all over his work area.

"Just give Lazuli a chance. Test her on the butterfly stroke and then make a decision."

Ruby's indignation at being told what to do is plain as day; I can tell she's used to getting her way with everything. She throws a glare at Mr. Jefferson's smiling face before breaking out into a smile of her own - one that shows far more teeth.

"Alright, yeah, sure. No harm in grilling the newbie."

With that, she pushes off of the desk and heads for the door, sparing a backward glance only to taunt me with "You _have_ a swimsuit, right?"

The derision in her voice make mes bristle, but it wouldn't be a good idea to disrespect my senior. At least, not _before_ I secure a position on the team. I set my shoulders and follow her into the hall.

"Of course."

She leads me to the locker rooms in chilly silence. I skirt the trail of water, but she only adds to it with her passage. Damn, I got caught up in the moment and forgot to mention it to Mr. Jefferson. It might not have done much good, anyway - Ruby doesn't seem like the kind of person to take criticism from anyone, including teachers.

The locker room we enter is tiled beige and reeks of chlorine. The lockers are a dark teal color; on one half of the room, their paint is chipped and flaking away, while the other half of the lockers appear to have been repainted recently. Through another door I can see the shower area, but a chain strung across the gap with an Out of Order sign tells me that I'm going to have to get used to smelling like chemicals all the time. Drains are spaced evenly between benches across the floor of the changing area to reduce hazards like the one out in the hall. A nigh-illegible sign painted onto one wall what looks like centuries ago warns: "-arefu-: W-t Fl-or."

As soon as the door closes behind us, Ruby turns and shoves me up against the wall roughly. Her arms box me in much like the day Jasper cornered me against the lockers before Homeroom - who knows, maybe they shared moves. Ruby may not be as bulky as the tanned bully, but she still has height on me and a ferocious tension in her stance.

"What you saw in there - you don't say a word to _anyone_. Understand?" Her face is inches from mine and splotched with bright red. "Because if you do, I'll make sure you wish you transferred to any school but this one."

Though she whispers to avoid echoing in the close space, the venom in her words is palpable. I can see it in her eyes. They seethe with turbulent turquoise, a color I saw often in the violent ocean waves of my childhood.

"And I don't care how much Jefferson wants you on the team," she says as she straightens and leans away from me,"You only make the team with _my_ permission. Now go get changed and we'll get this over with."

Her outburst is as brief and intense as a squall that leaves tension prickling the air like lightning even as the door to the pool area slams shut behind her. Stunned, I stay standing with my back against the cool tiles for several seconds, my heart playing a staccato rhythm on my ribcage. What struck me most about Ruby's explosion wasn't the rage, but the fear hiding behind it - the pure terror of being found out, of having your secrets spilled. I see her leaning into Mr. Jefferson conspiratorially, then Memories of Beach City flash though my mind like photos taken with a high-speed camera and for a moment I feel a connection with the rude, arrogant, spiteful redhead.

Then I shake the memories free and steel myself for the task at hand. Slipping out of my school clothes, I pull on the new swimsuit I picked out from an athletic-wear store in town. It's a simple one-piece competition suit like Ruby's, though mine is all cool shades of blue where hers is vibrant orange and yellow. As I run my thumb under the edge of the suit along my hip to smooth out the folds, I smile to myself. It feels as though until now, I've been walking around without my own skin.

I haven't felt this good in so long. I _will_ pass this test.

I almost run right into Ruby when I leave through the same door she took after leaving me to change. The girls' swim team is engaged in their early-morning practice. When Ruby spots me, she calls for the others to stop and gather around. I feel my confidence slipping as the group of strangers presses in close, all eyes fixed on me curiously.

"Listen up! This here is-" Ruby gives me a pointed look and I mumble my first name to her. "-Lapis Lazuli. Sophomore. She's going to try out for the butterfly spot."

A murmur spreads through the gathered swimmers. Butterfly is considered one of the more difficult strokes due to its high reliance on precise technique. It can be one of the fastest strokes, when done well, but without a high level of coordination and experience, it is easy to cause at lot of drag that wastes precious time and energy. It isn't a beginner-friendly stroke, so it makes sense that this would be the position the team is lacking most.

I feel a push on my back and I stumble to the edge of the pool. Ruby - a stopwatch appearing in her hand - watches me with a bored expression and gestures at the water.

"Well, go ahead. We're wasting practice time."

I scan the faces around me; some of them, probably the upperclassmen, share Ruby's skepticism of me, though most look on with hope that I will step up to the task. I steady myself with a few deep breaths and prepare my lungs for the workout. It's been a while, but I know the motions will come second-nature. Even so, I can't help the rush of adrenaline as I line my toes up on the edge of the pool, accompanied by a mix of nerves and anticipation.

Behind me, Ruby's voice rings out loud and clear: "Begin!"

In one fluid motion, I squat and fling my arms up over my head, my calves and thighs coiling and then unwinding as I push off. My body arcs over the water and with a deafening crash I enter, my weight compressed into the point of my fingertips so that barely a spray goes up behind me. Blue envelops my vision, the shock of cold enervating my legs to propel me forward and kick toward the surface. I breach and take a ragged breath through grinning lips, my arms swinging out and forward, my legs dolphin-kicking like they've fused into a single limb. My head goes under again in a veil of foam.

The burning in my underused swimming muscles feels so right, and I lament the past few months in which my move from Beach City robbed me of this pleasure. But the sorrow only lasts for my first lap of the pool - just enough time to grow accustomed to the refreshing flow of water over my skin. My body undulates in a wave-form, cutting through the water as smoothly as a stealth jet parts the air. I lose myself in the steady, synchronized motions of my limbs, the regular curl and flex of my abdomen up for breath and down to push forward, feeling as though I'm swimming in place despite flying through lap after lap. The test falls away; the swim team falls away; Ruby and her threats fall away. They all sink like stones out of sight toward the bottom of the ocean as my initial excitement stills into a peaceful repose. All that remains is me, a sleek arrow flying effortlessly through infinite azure.

I have found the place where I belong.

* * *

"No way! You made it onto the team?"

Peridot's excitement brings a smile to my lips.

"Yep. I start attending practice tomorrow. Six a.m. every day of the week."

Peridot flinches like I dumped boiling water on her.

"What- how in the- why the _hell_ would anyone get up that early?!"

"That's just how it is. I get up early every day, anyway."

"Still, there's gotta be laws against something like that. It's no better than child labor. Maybe worse."

Peridot makes a face and I squeal internally. The way her button nose wrinkles in distaste is so adorable. She's like a little bunny with sharp teeth - the one from the Monty Python movie, maybe.

"So does this mean... you won't have much time to... to hang out anymore?"

The drop in Peridot's volume makes me look over at her sharply. She's staring straight ahead, her pale cheeks tinted slightly, her brow drawn. I veer toward her and bump her shoulder lightly.

"No way. It will only be in the mornings, and you're never up then anyway. I can still walk home every day and hang out on weekends, except when there are meets of course."

Peridot doesn't say anything, but I can feel her relax next to me.

"The team captain is a real piece of work, though. Dakota Ruby." I shudder. "She was incredibly condescending at first, but I put a stop to that when I shattered the team's record time on the butterfly stroke."

I grin at the memory of pulling myself out of the pool, tired but satisfied at seeing the older girls' heads bent together over the stopwatch. Then the awed look on their faces when Ruby announced that I came in nearly a minute-and-a-half under the school's record, set by a senior years ago. The pride at seeing Ruby swallow her arrogance to ask me to take the position was almost as delicious as it had been to finally swim again.

"That reminds me, has Jasper given you any trouble lately?" Peridot asks.

"Not really. I guess you were right; after a while, she moved on to fresher meat."

"It's all just cheap thrills to her. Once she knows how you'll react, it's not worth the effort anymore."

We fall into a relaxed silence as we follow the long curve around the park. Well, as much silence as there can be while crunching through ankle-deep leaves. The trees lining our path are no more than skeletons now, their bare bony fingers reaching up to the pale sky. Halloween is coming up, and then winter will be right around the corner.

"C-Congratulations." Peridot and I glance at each other at the same time. "For making the swim team, I mean. I didn't say that earlier."

"Aw, Peri, you're being unusually cute today."

Peridot hunches her shoulders and kicks out at me with one foot, which I dodge nimbly. While she's off-balance, I retaliate by glomping onto her and wrapping her in a hug.

"Don't- don't call me cute- and what's with that nickname?!" Peridot shouts as she struggles to free herself.

"It fits you. A short name for a shorty."

Peridot starts flailing her arms at that, and when I remember how the rabbit from Monty Python and the Holy Grail tore the throats out of a group of armed knights with ease, I decide that maybe now would be a good time to stop provoking her. I let go and put some distance between use just in case she goes back on the offensive, but luckily she's too flustered at this point. Her hair sticks out at odd angles from where my arms mashed it down, so she takes the time to finger-comb it back into place - though this does little to improve anything.

"Hey, we should celebrate," I speak up suddenly. "It's not every day I make it onto a team and break a swimming record. Plus, I still haven't gotten to see your house."

There's a brief pause before Peridot sighs.

"Alright. Mom should be... busy for most of the night, so I guess it's fine. But no more 'Peri,' got it?"

"Sure, sure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm back! So just FYI, if you didn't see it already, I'll be leaving notices on my profile page when my updating status changes drastically like it has lately. I don't want to leave my dear readers in the dark, since I will be prone to erratic scheduling. So, sorry about the wait. I've got quite a bit of life stuff coming up still, but hopefully I'm back in business for now.
> 
> Also, I promise the next chapter will take place at Peridot's house. I wanted to include it here, but I don't want to put a POV change in mid-chapter and I just want to get this posted up. But there's no way I can get out of it next time. It's written in stone now. C;
> 
> -yurImperial


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